So that moment arrived a few days ago. My toddler has seen the photo in my bedroom of Asher, and wants to know “what’s that?” (Toddler for please explain).
It’s the only kind photo we have of his short life in the St George’s N.I.C.U.
My husband started explaining that this was Cal’s older brother, Asher, who went to be with Jesus. He stood thoughtfully for a moment and then toddled off to play. Hubby and I exchanged a look of surprise/that went well?! We were never going to keep Asher’s story from his siblings, and even though Cal and Shaw will never meet him, they need to know this part of their families story.
What I didn’t anticipate was the emotional response I would have to the conversation.
The suddenly seeing my boys and realising that they would never know their “older brother”, looking at how Cal and Shaw interact and wondering would it have been like that between Asher and Cal? Watching my 10 week old smile at me and wondering what it would be like to see Asher smile, and I cried and cried.
I missed my first born.
Learning to allow the peace of God to, ONCE AGAIN, flood my soul, then it doesn’t overtake me.
I can be sad for a while, but it won’t overtake me, because the goodness of God overshadows every part of my soul, even the difficult moments.